


Timeless

by Killermanatee



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Chakotay still loves her, Domestic Fluff, Episode: s05e06 Timeless, Established Relationship, F/M, Kathryn still can't cook, Post-Endgame, Timeless, What else is new?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 15:30:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16663462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killermanatee/pseuds/Killermanatee
Summary: The 20th anniversary of the slipstream flight should be commemorated.





	Timeless

As Chakotay closes the front door he is taken aback by the scent of frying onions wafting over from the kitchen. Irritation wrinkling his brow, he hangs up his coat and exchanges his winter boots for slippers. When he rounds the corner, he finds Kathryn bent over a pot on the stove, one hand holding a padd.

His wife utilizing their kitchen for anything other than brewing coffee, or making a quick sandwich is a rare sight, so he leans against the doorframe to appreciate the moment. She has discarded her uniform jacket and shirt, leaving her in the dark pants and grey tank that has become so symbolic for their times off duty. Her whitening hair is pulled together loosely in the simple ponytail she prefers at home, the strands caressing the elegant lines of her neck and shoulders. She is entirely focused on the task at hand - as she always is - stirring whatever she is making. 

Finally, his confusion over why she is home surpasses that caused by her activity in the kitchen, and he checks the chronometer.

“I thought you weren’t going to be home until at least 1900 hours.”

Utensils clatter as she spins around, one hand pressed to her chest.  “Damn it!”

Her frazzled appearance makes him grin. “Happy to see you as well.”

“What are you doing here?” she asks without missing a beat, moving in front of the stove so his view is obstructed.

“It may surprise you, but I live here.”

He takes a few steps toward her and she mirrors his movements to stop him with a hand to his chest.

Her irritation is still visible. “Well, yes, but I just wasn’t expecting you to be back so early.”

He wraps is arms lightly around her waist and bends low so he can press a kiss to her forehead, which does its trick to relax her features.  

“So, what did I walk in on?”

He glances over her head to the chaos on the counter made up of chopped vegetables, seasoning containers, knives and bowls.

“A surprise, which is much less of a surprise now,” she states with a sigh.

He can’t help but chuckle. “Oh, trust me, I have lived with you long enough to be completely surprised by you making dinner.”

She scoffs and returns to the counter, where she opens a lid to examine what’s underneath. He follows her and peeks over her shoulder, then bites his lips at the already blackening chunks of onion frying in the pot.

“So, what are you making?”

She adds a bowl of seasoning to the onions and he wonders at which point he should step in to suggest adding a bit more liquid.

“Vegetable Biryani.”

The explanation hangs between them for a moment as he recalls the first time she tried her hand at this dish; as well as the necessary acting abilities to ensure her that it was enjoyable. Although by the end of that night the food hadn’t been then relevant aspect of their dinner. He can barely believe it’s been twenty years since then, but the date burned itself into his memory.

He shakes his head to clear his mind.

“Would you like me to help?” he asks, hoping his voice sounds neutral enough.

“No, I’m okay.”

He’s glad her back is turned to him so she doesn’t see him rub his hands over his beard in exasperation.

“In that case, I am going to sit at my desk for a few minutes.”

He presses a kiss to her cheek and she shoots him a quick smile before adding _very_ roughly chopped garlic to the burned onions.

“I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.”

As he walks to his office he wonders if there is still leftover lasagna, and just how long he will have to wait to steal a few bites of it without letting his wife know.  

 

\-----

 

Much later they are lying in bed, warm and sated, despite his only partially filled stomach. Their mingled sweat is cooling, and he finally deems it safe to broach the subject of this anniversary again.

“You didn’t have to cook for me to celebrate today.”

She props herself up to look at him, her mussed hair a salt and pepper halo that makes him smile with fondness.

“Is this meant to imply my cooking skills aren’t up to the task?”

She raises an eyebrow, which would maybe more intimidating if only her makeup wasn’t so smudged, and her bare breasts weren’t quite so visible.

“It’s _meant_ to imply that this part of the anniversary clearly outshines the other half,” he offers diplomatically.

She swats his chest in reply, but then lays her head back down against his shoulder, body curled around him.

He strokes her arm that’s across his stomach.

“Twenty years…” he trails off, not sure where his thought is going.

She hums, and not for the first time he wonders how after that night he was able to accept that it would be the only time of weakness they would allow themselves for the rest of their journey home. The heartbreak has long since worn off, having been replaced with the contentment of their life together.

He kisses her and at that exact moment his stomach growls.

Her reaction is instant. “Late lunch, huh?” she repeats the words he used over dinner, her voice showing her obvious realization that he has been caught.

He tugs at his ear, trying to come up with a way to apologize.

“Oh relax,” she interrupts his thoughts, and he is relieved to hear entertainment in her voice.

“I guess your cooking skills are just part of the authentic experience?” he offers.

That makes her laugh and he releases the breath he was holding.

“Well, then how about you go and get us some dessert for me to lick off your chest?”

Her sultry remark makes him turn around so they are facing each other, and one leg easily slides between hers.

“Why, I don’t think that’s what we did with it last time, _Captain_.” He teases with a low voice, putting emphasis on the rank she hasn’t held in seventeen years.

She rubs herself against his thigh, twisting her fingers into his hair, a seductive smile playing on her lips.

“My cooking may not be any better, but I did learn a few things about your body, _Commander_.”

With that she leans forward to nip at his earlobe, very clearly proving her point.

 

**Author's Note:**

> In the bookclub, few episodes are as frequently discussed as Timeless. So for the 20th anniversary of it airing I simply HAD to write a little ficlet. 
> 
> Big thanks to [BlackVelvet42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackVelvet42) for supporting my endeavors as always. <3
> 
> Also lots of thanks and hearts and cupcakes for [Miss_Mil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Mil) and [muldy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/muldy) for their quick and thorough betaing.


End file.
